


The Fairy Tale of Goldmarie and Pechmarie - and an unlucky Leprechaun

by dab_of_paint



Category: American Gods (TV)
Genre: Epic Friendship, F/M, Female Friendship, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Healthy Relationships, Male-Female Friendship, Mystery, Mythology - Freeform, Not Beta Read, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Self-Insert, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:07:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22069021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dab_of_paint/pseuds/dab_of_paint
Summary: "Are there dragons somewhere around here?"One disbelieving eyebrow rose and a corner of his mouth lifted in amusement."Might be. Wouldn't recommend trying to talk to one of these arseholes though, last time I met one, I almost got my eyebrows burned off."A story about love, folklore and myths, grumpy leprechauns, dead wifes, dorks and a war that shakes the foundations of the earth.
Relationships: Mad Sweeney (American Gods)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 20





	1. Once Upon a Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was certainly something to be said about making a good first impression. Too bad I forgot what that was.

* * *

_I guess every good and proper fairy tale starts with a ‘Once Upon a Time’. So, who am I to stop with this revered tradition?_

_Once upon a time I died._

_And then I woke up._

* * *

Normally, the heroine – and since I am telling this story, I proclaim myself the heroine of this tale – would now be faced with a bad headache, would awake dramatically from her slumber, would maybe even have a handsome prince right in front of her face whilst she lay there on the cushy flower-bedded ground and – yeah no.

I woke up from a smell that was so vile I almost retched.

“What the fuck?”, a harsh voice spat.

Yeah, I know that feeling buddy.

“The fuck are you?”, a female joined in.

I looked up.

“What the hell?”, I whispered in German.

I blinked and then pinched myself, hard.

“Ouch!”

“What the fuck are you doing in our car?”

Laura Moon was swearing at me. As in, Laura Moon, dead wife of Shadow Moon. As in TV Show character of American Gods Laura Moon.

“Err…”

Tires screeched as the madman in the drivers’ seat stopped the car we were apparently in on the middle of the road. While I still sat there like a deer in the headlights, staring at the other non-existing-person – or mythical being, or whatever – staring back at me with a flabbergasted expression to my left, Laura Moon – and what the hell, that’s Laura Moon, how did that even work? – stomped around the car, almost broke off the door and very roughly dragged my pyjama clad ass off the backseat. And my hair was still wet, I lamented internally.

And then it hit. I died.

I was literally dead and now unsteadily standing in front of another woman that was dead and was also called Laura and for a second I found that absolutely hysterically hilarious.

That hilarity died a swift death, when said dead woman grabbed me by my lapels and shouted a very loud

“Who the fuck are you?”

at me.

Mad Sweeney had now also left the confines of the car and was looming very threateningly in the background and glowering up a storm. 

“Laura. I’m Laura. And I have no idea how I got here. I kind of died, but apparently I got better.” My voice was a little wheezy at the end and I seriously considered the wisdom of asking the nice lady in front of me to release me, because I kind of still needed air. Probably.

“Not funny, darling.”, grumbled Mad Sweeney, giving me the gimlet eye. He hit the ‘R’s a lot harder than Laura did, I uselessly noted.

The other man on the drivers seat also exited the car – oh, that was a taxi - and I guessed that would make him Salim then.

The hands around my lapels tightened and I seriously feared about the only garment I possessed. In this world. God, what the fuck.

“Not trying to be funny. I’m really sorry, but could you let go please? I still need air.”

She let go and I sighed in relief.

“Well, I don’t, and I really died, in a real car crash with blood and all that stuff, so how does that work in your case? And how did you – I don’t know – transport? Beam? Whatever that was – into the taxi? Are you also one of those weirdos?” She looked pointedly at Sweeney who scoffed.

I took a moment to centre myself and just try to make _sense_ of something that clearly couldn’t make _any_ sense at all.

I huffed out a breath.

“I have no idea.”

If she were still alive, I’d bet I’d be able to see a vein pop on Lauras’ forehead and I almost suspected I’d get my head ripped off in a few seconds, so I hurried to carry on.

“I slipped, fell down in the full tub with a blow-drier, apparently got electrocuted- “, I stumbled a little over the word, “and woke up in the backseat of your car. I know this sounds crazy and I’m still not convinced I’m not going to wake up at any moment to realize I fell asleep on the toilet or something equally stupid, but yeah.”, I trailed off, not sure how to continue.

A pregnant silence fell. Salim awkwardly cleared his throat.

“Bollocks.”, Sweeney scoffed.

And yeah, I got his point but _that_ was not helpful.

Laura also seemed to have reached her limit, because she sneered at me – and damn could that lady look hateful – and stomped back to the passengers’ seat.

“We don’t have time for this. C’mon Salim.”, she hissed and proceeded to enter the car and when Salim joined her, and Sweeney also made to open the backseat door I kind of panicked and blurted out:

“You’re a leprechaun, and you’re called Mad Sweeney, and you were a king and then a bird and then you came to America after escorting Essie to her death – I think? And now you’re working for Odin, or Mr. Wednesday, and you lost your lucky gold coin to Shadow Moon who is the husband of Laura Moon, who’s right now sitting in this car and who’s also a ridiculously strong zombie-woman and the taxi driver is called Salim and is in love with a Jinn and if you take me with you I can kind of tell you what may happen in the near future - possibly.”, I blurted in one jumbled mess of a breath and then just stood there and stared pleadingly at the red-head, who’d by now turned fully in my direction and looked ready to lop my head off.

I shakily held up both of my hands and tried to look friendly.

“I can kind of explain?”

* * *

We sat in the car, Salim on the drivers’ seat, Laura on the passenger seat, Sweeney right behind Salim and me to his right. Pretty good tactic to ensure that I couldn’t get Salim to somehow swerve the car or stab Sweeney in the back or do something equally shady, I noted absent-mindedly. Laura probably wouldn’t even notice a little backstabbing.

“So, talk.”, Laura muttered, eyes flicking to the rear-view mirror to glance at me.

“I’m not exactly from this world…”, I hedged, kneading my hands nervously. I saw Sweeney drawing a breath – probably to proclaim that I was talking ‘Bollocks’ as he’d say, so I hurried to keep on talking.

“I’m literally meaning I’m probably from another universe. This here – the reason why I know your names and know something like a part of your future is that I saw all of that in a TV Show.”

“A TV Show?”, Salim spluttered, eyebrows drawn together.

“That sounds like total bullshit.”, Laura muttered. I nodded. “Yep- “, I popped the ‘p’, “it does. Doesn’t make it any less true though.”

“So, assuming what you’re telling is the truth, why would that happen to _you_?”, Sweeney didn’t say that as derisive as I’d expected, but he was clearly trying to weight my worth.

I shrugged uneasily.

“The only correlation to any of you I see is that my name is also Laura and I also died. I’m also not something-“, I fluttered my hands vaguely, “ _other_ than human, I think. Never did anything that would suggest that.”

“If what you say is true, Allah must have interesting plans for you.”, Salim said, his side-profile looking very earnest.

I hummed.

“That’s also something that’s a little like you, Laura, I’m actually not religious. I mean I guess there might be something or someone – or someones for that matter – that fiddles around with the lines of destiny or whatever – but I’m not completely convinced of that.” I stopped short for a moment, eyebrows drawn up and murmured. “Or _was_ not completely convinced of that. Does _knowing_ something also make it _believing_ something?”

Nobody answered that, if they heard.

For a moment, only the quiet radio music filled the silence.

Salim cleared his throat.

“So, since we already have one Laura, I think it would be easier to call you something else.”

I blinked, drawing one side of my mouth back. “Like what?”

“Do you have a second name?”, Laura asked with her head lazily resting on the window.

“Marie.”

“Then it’s nice to meet you, Marie.”, Salim said gently, throwing me a quick smile through the rear-view mirror. That guy was really sweet.

“Eh, nice to meet you guys, too.” My smile looked a little like a grimace and Sweeney scoffed beside me and drew a cap over his eyes. He shuffled around a little and ended up taking up almost a third of the whole backseat, with his long legs inside my foot space.

While Laura was never actually genuinely nice, she made a good conversion partner, and we ended up chatting about anything from casino etiquette to making the best cake batter, with Salim occasionally making comments about how things were handled back in Oman.

When she moved to lightly swerve the car in the direction of Indiana and looked at me while making a shushing motion, I made the split-second decision that I really didn’t need to change that, because nothing bad happened there. If I even _needed_ to change anything. Maybe it would be better if I just went somewhere else and didn’t interfere at all? Maybe start working at Jack’s Crocodile Bar while we were there to get some money and-

And then what? I didn’t have any papers and I was still in my pyjamas.

“Salim?”, I asked quietly, very aware that I could wake up the resident leprechaun and probably change history – or earn a super-powered swat on the head from the resident zombie-woman, “can we stop at a store somewhere? I need something else to wear if we’re trying to keep a low profile.” And I also wanted to get a little fresh air because the backseat stank to high heaven, and the dead woman in front of me didn’t exactly smell of roses either. 

“You have any money?”, Laura asked, also keeping her voice down. I shook my head, the dishwater blond curls now dry enough to bounce with the motion, before I noticed she wouldn’t see that and humming a negative.

“Hm, we’ll manage. Drive out there”, she pointed at a gateway and after a few minutes, we drove by a big sign saying, ‘Welcome to Effingham”.

We ended up stopping at a Walmart and because Salim was strictly against stealing and could probably guess what Lauras’ plan was, was nice enough to lend me 15 $.

I bought a seriously ugly red Christmas sweater with tiny Lamas, a tacky white shirt with a tiger on it, some formless discount panties and a bra, managed to grab a just barely fitting soft black polka-dotted leggings and almost started a fight over the last fitting pair of ballet flats in a very unflattering granite grey. When I passed the drug store section, I also added a toothbrush and -paste to my cart. 

After I wiggled into my new wardrobe, brushed my teeth and used the plastic bag provided to pack up my pyjamas and underwear – and now that I actually wore one again – oh my god, I had been walking around without a bra and my pjs weren’t exactly that thick to cover up my itty bits – and- and nothing happened, nobody leered, I was totally fine, we were in America and I was _not_ the weirdest person the Walmart employees hat ever seen, I huffed out a breath.

While I had been off discount-hunting, Salim seemed to have stacked up on bottled water and handed me a potato chip from the tiny stand I’d seen when entering the Shopping Centre. Sweeney was still sleeping in the backseat – now taking up even more space if that were possible.

“My, you look fabulous.”, Laura commented with a cat-like grin and I did a little twirl and bowed – feeling slightly more comfortable to joke around with her.

“I know, right?”

When we finally started driving again – after Salims’ prayers, talk about dedication here - I ended up squished to the farthest end of the seat, with my feet resting on the space behind the handbrake. It had already been pretty dark when they picked me up and since none of us were really up to talking anymore, I bundled up my pjs – without the plastic bag, that would be a little too noisy to actually drift off to sleep - and stuffed them under my head before I tried to make myself as comfortable as possible.

* * *

I felt very comfortable, head resting on my warm pillow, that was rising gently up and down- I blinked and registered the unusual sight of a slightly off-white tank shirt and jacket combi that my arm was slung about. The next thing that registered was a hand wedged between the backrest and a seriously big, very warm, hand resting right on my hipbone.

“Well, don’t you two look cosy. Wish I had a camera.”, a female voice chirped and before I could even try to detangle myself, the hand around my hip squeezed and a giant yawn left my temporary mattress.

“Bugger off, dead wife.”

“Err…”, I chanced a look up, not that sure where to put my hands anymore and ending up awkwardly holding onto the backrest of the drivers’ seat with one hand and the other buried somewhere between the leprechaun and the backseat to prop myself up.

Well, the good news was that he didn’t look angry, the bad news was that he had killer bedroom eyes.

“Sorry.”, I murmured and managed to somehow get back into my own seat. Sweeney grunted and drew one hand over his face in an attempt to wake up.

“We’re here.”, Laura said from the passenger seat, wiggled her eyebrows and gave me a wolfish grin, before getting out of the car. 

I left the taxi pretty fast when the first harsh expletives left my backseat-neighbour and proceeded to let out my own jaw-cracking yawn.

Salim and Laura were already on their way to the entrance of Jack’s Crocodile Bar and I hovered a moment between them and the taxi, where Sweeney was just unfolding from his seat.

I was an inherently polite person and I thought it was a little rude to not wait a few seconds for someone to catch up with a group and enter a place together.

“Hurry up, cuddles!” These nicknames were going to get old real fast.

I did as told and slipped in behind Salim who’d held open the door. Sweeney probably wouldn’t appreciate being waited for anyways and I was sure he knew his way around here a lot better than me.

We settled down in a booth and just a few seconds later our resident redhead slipped into the seat beside me. I noticed again how much space that guy always took up.

“Why’re we here, dead wife?”, Sweeney asked, arms propped up on the table and a frown on his face.

“I’m searching for my husband.”

“And you think he’d actually take you back? You’re a smelly cadaver that’s loosing bits and pieces, not even a desperate man would try to hit your dead arse up.”

Lauras answer was clenched fists and narrowed eyes and all teeth when she spat that he should stop trying to shame her, because that doesn’t work on her.

“When you kissed, you might’ve tasted life, but he tasted death on your tongue, dead wife. Shadow ain’t obligated to take your dead arse back and you know it. He’s got a new life with Wednesday, Salim’s got a new life with his Jinn and you need ta get a new life without Shadow.”

Uncomfortable didn’t even start to describe how awkward this whole situation was. I exchanged a silent, mutually discomforted stare with Salim while Sweeney and Laura verbally ripped into each other.

I was just glad that they didn’t also try to drag me into their spat.

A steely eyed waitress – I think that would be Jack then? – took up our order and I hesitated only a moment about the fact that I didn’t have any money on me. I mean, we had a leprechaun with us with a hoard of gold, so that shouldn’t make any problems.

I’d tuned the bickering pair of inhuman beings out in favour of looking around the bar and appreciating the detail-oriented interior.

“And what was with that little cosy cuddle-pile in the backseat? You trying to get into the knickers of a delusional college student?”

Well, so much for staying out of their argument.

“I’m 25, he’s about 4000 years too old for me and I’d like to stay out of your spat, thank you very much.”

The discussion ground to a short halt, likely because neither of them actually thought I’d contribute something.

“Yeah sure, that Ginger Minge is a 4000-year-old leprechaun.” Laura scoffed.

I was a little surprised that she still didn’t believe that. I mean, she herself was an impossibility so it wasn’t that far off that Mad Sweeney could be a mythical Irish creature – an impossibility, too.

“What did you do before you ended up… here?”, Salim interjected curiously and yeah, well, it was nice that he tried to steer the conversation in another direction, but I wasn’t that comfortable being the topic of conversation either.

“Worked part-time, was in the last semester of university for my master’s degree.”, I shrugged, “Nothing that interesting.”

“Oh, an academic.”, Sweeney gave a smile full of teeth, his tone mocking.

Laura looked a little disgruntled.

“And where and what did you study then?”, Salim carried on, gracefully ignoring the other two. I took a second to answer that, seriously contemplating if I should lie.

“Computer Science, with a bachelors’ degree in Internet Marketing. And I come from Germany, Bavaria, also studied there.”, I mumbled reluctantly, eyes deliberately trained on my now newly arrived glass of sparkly water.

Considering the current war between old and new gods that might place me on the side of gods like Mr. World or Technical Boy or god forbid – on New Medias – as soon as she’d be born anyways. And that would mean it would probably place me on the opposite side from all three of my current companions.

I was a little terrified to look up. As a former Sun God and a leprechaun with a rather angry disposition I wouldn’t exactly put it past Mad Sweeney to try to punt me to mush, if I looked even vaguely like I might go to the New Gods side with my knowledge about him.

“So, a useless academic, then.”, Sweeney’s voice was notably colder now.

I cleared my throat and gave myself a little pep-talk about not taking the cowards way out of this conversation. With squared shoulders, I managed to catch the leprechaun’s eyes.

“I’m not going to go tattle to Technical Boy or Mr. World or any of the New Gods, just because I decided to study something that would get me a well-paid, secure job-position.” 

My answer was a dismissive shrug and a clearly measuring stare.

“Who’re Mr. World and Technical Boy?”, Laura asked, chin propped up on her hand.

I shuffled around a bit on my seat and took a gulp of water, before glancing unsurely at my seat-neighbour, not certain if I should be the one to explain that.

Sweeneys expression gave nothing away, so I huffed a little and proceeded to try to explain the clusterfuck that was the Old Gods and New Gods and the war that was brewing. I most probably got a few facts wrong and speculated here and there about the reasons and the possible consequences for humanity, if both sides decided to go at it, but I wasn’t interrupted once so there was that.

“Speaking about Mythical Creatures, are there any more leprechauns walking around?” I was rather curious about that, seeing as in the show, Sweeney said he was _a_ leprechaun, which could imply that there were more than one.

Said leprechaun took his time answering, draining half of his pint, before glancing at me out of the corner of his eye.

“Yeah, there’re a few. Just not around ‘ere”

I hummed thoughtfully and ignored Lauras unconvinced scoff. If leprechauns existed and I vaguely also remembered a talk about mermaids between Sweeney and Wednesday – were there other creatures too?

Suddenly a lot more animated, I shifted to face the redhead.

“Are there _dragons_ somewhere around here _?_ ”

One disbelieving eyebrow rose and a corner of his mouth lifted in amusement.

“Might be. Wouldn’t recommend trying to talk to one of these arseholes though, last time I met one, I almost got my eyebrows burned off.”

Oh my god – _dragons were real here_. Cue sparkling eyes.

“Do they have like scales and horns and can they _fly_?”, I wiggled my hands in a flying-motion, very much excited about the new information.

“Some, nah, also some. Why’re you so interested in dragons anyway?”

My arms spastically flew around for a second and I blurted: “I mean, dragons are real! Real-life dragons! Drag-oons! How can I not be excited about that? That’s like the dream of every even vaguely fantasy-genre savvy person on this planet!”

Sweeney snorted.

“Oh wait ‘till I tell that to-“, I stopped short, suddenly sombre. Yeah, who’d I tell that to anyway anymore. I didn’t _have_ any friends or family anymore.

Salim threw me a sympathetic glance and Laura looked away, uncomfortable with the subject.

“Wonder if there’s another me running around somewhere in Germany right now.”, I mused, deflating slightly.

Sweeney huffed out a breath.

“Might be.”, he took a sip of his pint, “Might also not be. Doesn’t really matter anymore, does it? You’re here now, for better or worse. Same shit as with the dead wife, you’ll need to make yourself a new life, _there’s no coming back from death_.”


	2. Easter Eggs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which decisions are made.

We stopped at the side of the road to allow Salim to say his prayers. While Laura sat in a nearby ditch, smoking like a chimney, Sweeney leaned against the taxi and I took the time to stretch my legs a little. It was rather cramped on the backseat and I did feel a tiny little bit resentful that my giant seat-neighbours’ legs were – well, gigantic and taking up not only his own space but also my own.

As I stalked out into the field of grass, I started wondering when and _if_ I should actually talk about the coming incidents. I looked back over my shoulder for a moment, staring at Mad Sweeney, who was scuffing his boots, looking mighty bored.

He’d die.

I frowned. There was a little foreshadowing (Hah- fore- _Shadow_ -ing), in the way Laura took his corpse with her at the end of season two, so he might just come back to life some way.

But he also might not.

And Salim and his Jinn would probably face the wrath of Odin at one point in the future, what with the Ifrit deciding to leave with his lover.

My gaze wandered over to Laura. She was still dead at the end of season two but did get slightly better with the help of a little murder on Argus.

Another thing. Murder. If I decided to stay with these guys, I’d necessarily need to get my shit together and maybe even bash some faces in. Which would be a significant problem. I didn’t ever punch anyone in my whole life. I’d be dead-weight in a fight.

And I’d need to be okay with people killing other people- or gods. I huffed out a frustrated breath and agitatedly racked a hand through my hair, turning around again.

This whole situation was stupid.

“We’re off again, you comin’?”, Sweeney raised his voice to be heard – I did walk quite far, I now realized.

“Coming!”

I hurried back, almost face-planting because of a molehill.

The others were already sitting in the taxi.

“How were the moles?”, Laura quipped at me, sunglasses reflecting against the light.

“Good, mother-mole told me she wanted you home by ten.”

“Y’all barmy.”

Salim chuckled and started the car.

I struggled with myself for a moment, several times almost starting to speak and then deciding against it again for a lack of useful wording.

A boot-clad foot none too gently prodded against my leg.

“Spit it out.”, Sweeney grumped with his arms crossed, almost merged with the backrest.

I sighed.

“I told you guys I know a version of your future. And that future might not even come to pass anymore, just because I’m sitting here right now. But I could probably still turn tail, and everything would happen like it was supposed to. Thing is, I’m not sure it is supposed to go that way. Maybe everything here is just a freak-accident and it doesn’t mean anything that someone with foreknowledge got thrown into another universe, but if it’s deliberate…”, I trailed off, head thudding against Lauras’ seat in frustration.

“If it’s deliberate, I gotta do something about it.” Another thud.

“And I got no idea whatsoever what that something might be.” Another thud.

“And I’m not sure at all if or who I’d even tell everything that might or might not happen, because that might or might not make everything worse!” My head thudded against a hand and was nonchalantly pressed back into the backseat.

“Does anyone of us die -”, Sweeney settled back in his seat and looked at Laura pointedly, “or get any deader?”

And well, _yeah_.

He must’ve read that from my expression and devolved into a short, but violent fit of Gaelic cussing.

“Alright. I wanna know what happens.”, Laura said from the front, tone determined. That almost sounded like she believed me. Before I could even try to gather my thoughts, Salim interjected quietly but firmly: “I don’t. Allah does have plans for all of us and I would not want to interfere with them.”

“Even if someone you love could die because of your decision?”

I thought of Odin and a giant lightning-bolt striking down, scorching the earth black in its wake, dead faceless men lying still on the ground, and swallowed, hard. What had I gotten myself into?

This was madness.

“I… no. I have faith that whatever may happen, Allah will guide me through it.”

I wasn’t one to question other peoples’ faiths or religions, but in this I wanted nothing more than try to change his mind. I didn’t want anything to happen to Salim and knowing what was going to come would surely help him out. He was such a genuinely good person. It was unfair.

I leaned back, staring up at the hood of the car and whispered a very heartfelt “Scheiße.”, apropos of nothing.

My head lolled over to look at our resident leprechaun. “And you?”

He snorted.

“Yeah, I ain’t leaving that shit to faith, jingle bells.” I was a little surprised the Christmas nicknames only started now, considering I’d worn a discount Christmas-Sweater for more than a day.

“Next stop, we’re talking.”, Laura said.

I hummed.

“Yeah, next stop, we’re talking.”

* * *

Aforementioned next stop was the Derek Arnold Jr. ranch, as the big sign merrily advertising the tourist attraction proclaimed. Salim swiftly vacated the car and grabbed his praying mat out of the trunk and Laura and Sweeney followed suit while I dithered a little.

The redhead tapped against the glass and made a come-hither motion and I sighed and finally got out of the car.

Laura was already making a bee-line to the down-on-it’s-luck café and souvenir combination smack dab in the middle of the ranch, but I managed to steer her into a wide open field just across from a cornfield by carefully linking my arms with her. The feel of her skin through my sweater was rubbery and unnatural. A shiver went down my spine, but I proverbially drew on my big-girl pants and told myself to get my shit together right about now. Sweeneys’ long legs kept up without any problems.

I plopped down with my back to the ranch and motioned for them to join me, glancing around covertly. “Did you see any ravens?”, I asked quietly, when they settled down and while Laura looked at me like I just proclaimed my undying devotion to garlic-ice-cream, Sweeneys’ eyes narrowed and he made a show of stretching and cracking his neck to take a look around.

“Not as far as I can see.”

I nodded.

“Good, you’ll meet them if you-“, I cleared my throat awkwardly and gesticulated to some trees, “relieve yourself sometime today.”

“So why the open field and not a cute little café?”, Laura asked curiously, surprisingly seeming to set the weird raven-talk aside.

“I have no idea how the powers of Mr. World or Technical Boy, or Media’s for that matter, work. As far as I know they’re probably able to listen to just about any conversation through any kind of tech and I’d wager none of us would like them to know parts of your future.”

“Well, I’ve never met them, so why would they be interested in anything I listen to or say?”

I cringed a little. God, this was uncomfortable.

“You’re both connected to Odin.”

“Odin?”

“Mr. Wednesday.”

“And how am I connected to him? Apart from my husband running around the country with the old bag of bones.”

I paused.

“Okay, before I’m telling you guys all this, you need to promise me that you won’t try to kill each other. And…” I raked a hand through my hair in distress.

“And some things I say might need some backstory. I know things about you, you probably won’t want me to know and you also might not want the other to know. Should I- I don’t know should I leave things out that’re too personal?”

“No.”, Sweeney said and for a moment I could imagine him with a face full of battle-paint, mud and blood splattered on his visage – a general of war, a god of the sun-, then I blinked, and the over-image was gone.

Laura gave an affirmative sound.

“Good. So, promise me you won’t kill each other.”, I repeated, and both very mockingly did just that.

What followed next would go down in my personal history as one of the most uncomfortable conversations I ever had. I glossed over some backstories, like Essies’ and only mentioned Sweeneys daughter and wife in passing, also taking the time to tell him that he was a god – I’d sadly forgotten what he was called back then, wondering if I could trigger some of his memories, tried to sneak around the almost-suicide from Laura and found a very interesting beetle to stare at, when I narrated how Sweeney and Laura had sex in a kind of roundabout way, that could probably be classified as a four-some.

The only reaction of Laura to Sweeney being the one that murdered her was a rather tame kick to his shins. Sweeney did look a little pale, but simultaneously smug, when I detailed his death though – it figured that he’d get a kick out of one-upping Odin in his last seconds.

“Well, that was something.”, Laura padded off in Salim’s direction.

There was a short silence and then Sweeney also stood.

“’M gonna take a leak.” 

I let gravity take hold, slumped down on my back and just breathed for a few minutes.

So much for that.

I closed my eyes.

And now?

Now, I guess I could just – go away. I’d done my part, prepared two people who’d been fucked over by gods so very often a little for what was to come, gave them a fighting chance so to speak.

It wasn’t really my responsibility anymore, was it? I wouldn’t be able to contribute much, maybe even stand in the way. If the New Gods managed to get me on their weird torture-device, I’d even be a high risk – a liability.

Maybe I could weasel some gold coins out of Mad Sweeney, just enough to keep me over the tide for a few days, just until I found some work where they wouldn’t ask to see any papers and didn’t ask much questions. And after that just live my life in obscurity.

Or I could start traveling around the world, something I’d always wanted to do, work wherever people needed a hand, meet new people, maybe even meet some Gods or Mythical Creatures. For a moment I imagined myself standing on a cobble-stone bridge and making deals with trolls to allow me passage, diving down into the depth of the red-sea and swimming with mermaids or leaning against a cherry tree, yokai of old swinging in the branches above.

A fierce longing welled up in the depth of my heart.

There was so much to see now, so much magic and wonder and _I wanted that_.

Grass rustled and someone settled down beside me.

“Ah, fucking shit.”

When I opened my eyes, I had the dubious honour of watching a leprechaun smear dirt-streaked hands over his jeans.

“Fucking molehills.” At my inquisitive stare, he elaborated: “Fell over coming here.”, he jabbed a thumb over his shoulder in the general direction of the road, seamed by trees and hedges.

I closed my eyes again.

“So, Muninn – or was it Huginn?”

Sweeney scoffed.

“I have no idea which is which with these cunts. Told them to fuck off.”

I rolled over and settled my head on my arms, looking back to the ranch and stared at the giant buffalo statue – Tatanka something or other they were called if I remembered correctly.

We were silent for a moment.

“Ya leaving?”

“I don’t know.”, I mumbled, and I really didn’t. I kind of wanted to help, if possible, but I also wanted to run as far away as my legs would carry me. There was a war brewing and I wasn’t equipped in the least to handle something like that.

“We got three sides now. Us against the New and the Old Gods. We could always use more people in our corner, just saying.”

I buried my head in my arms.

“I’m not a-“, it took a moment to find the right word and it still fell flat somehow.

“I’m not a warrior.”, I felt silly saying something that obvious, that frivolous. 

“No shit, jingle bells.” His laugh was slightly derisive, and I felt divided over verbally lashing out and curling up in mortification.

Before I could settle on any action, he continued: “How’s that saying go? Two brains work better than one? - “, I never heard that one, “In our case we’d even have two alive and one dead brain to work with. The more the merrier. Point is, we need a _strategy_.”, he stressed and got up.

“Think about it. We’re leaving in about ten minutes to Kentucky. Jinn-lover over there’ll take off to Wisconsin as soon as we tell him.”

I heard him take a few steps and then stop.

“For what it’s worth, I think you already helped a great deal by giving us a heads-up. Thanks for that.” A pause. “See ya around.”

He stalked off.

And could I really back out now, after hearing that?

I huffed, frustrated and quietly cursed Sweeney for inadvertently appealing to my goddamn helping-people-complex, that seemed to have suddenly and unhelpfully appeared in the last day.

* * *

When I approached the ice cream-truck, the motor was already running.

I heaved open the backdoor and slipped in, bumped into the icebox almost immediately and grumpily cursed it’s creator to the deepest pits of hell. 

“Hey there, Cuddles.”, Laura chirped from the drivers-seat.

“Hi.”, I replied absent-mindedly while I tried to find some passable clothes or something of the like to bundle up into. It was absurdly cold, curtesy of the open refrigerator merrily humming on.

I understood the need for Laura to preserve her body, but I still felt a little annoyed that she suspected us to the icy cold for her own gain. 

As soon as I managed to settle down behind the drivers’ seat, huddled into an old brown coat and a bedroll that’s seen better days, Laura pressed down on the gas and we were off like a shot.

I caught a glimpse of Sweeneys’ side-profile, he looked worried, with furrowed brows and a pinched look on his face. For a moment, I wondered if he actually didn’t really want me to hang around, if he’d just said the things before to be nice, to spare my feelings, but then he caught me looking, grinned and gave a jaunty little wave in greeting.

We drove for a while in complete silence.

It felt like I’d forgotten something, something exceedingly important. And then Sweeney started talking about his debt to Odin, owing him a war, and- the rabbit. I lurched forward.

“Laura! _Don’t_ swerve the truck!”, I gasped, interrupting Sweeney in his narrative.

By whatever deity deigned to be on our side this day, she did as I told and held the wheel tightly.

There was a quiet bump, then silence.

“I just killed a rabbit.”, Laura said, her voice slightly off.

I winced.

“To be exact, you killed one of Ostaras’ rabbits.” I worried my lip between my teeth. “That was probably bad.”

Sweeney cursed.

“Why didn’t you say that earlier?”, he barked, and I shrunk back for a moment, before snapping back.

“I forgot, okay?”

“What would’ve happened if I’d swerved?”, Laura asked, interrupting something that would’ve probably been a very creative chain of insults directed at me.

“The truck would’ve turned, you would’ve been thrown through the windshield and would’ve lost your coin, Sweeney would’ve gotten a few bumps and ultimately would’ve decided to give you the coin back to keep you alive and I- I’ve no idea. Might’ve cracked my skull open – so _I’m sorry_ for saving my own hide.”

I flinched sharply when Sweeney abruptly cracked his fist onto the console. “ _Fucking shit.”,_ he swore and racked a hand through his hair.

I immediately felt bad about my tone.

“The only thing she did to Odin was not join his war when he drove one of her rabbits over.”, I offered.

“That’s fucking Odin. We’re no one, she could just decide to lop our heads off – who knows with these goddamn cunts.”

“How the hell would that Ostara-woman even know that we hit one of her rabbits?”, Laura incredulously interjected.

I shrugged.

“No idea, but she knew that Odin did.”

We descended into strained silence.

I felt wrong-footed and fussed with the hems of the coat in distress. I’ve only just decided to help and already managed to fuck things up. Great.

After a couple of more minutes I couldn’t bear it anymore and cleared my throat tentatively.

“Do you have any ideas what you want to do yet? I mean, if Ostara doesn’t decide she wants to get rid of us, everything I told you about is probably going to happen. But if we change something big- “, like not flipping the truck, or killing a goddesses’ rabbit, I winced at my own thoughts-“we could maybe end up somewhere where we don’t know what’ll happen next.”

“For now, we’ll see what happens when we get there, since you said nobody of us dies there or is in any serious danger, or did you forget anything _else_ important?”

Well, he still seemed seriously pissed off about that. I bit my lip and tried to scrounge up everything I remembered about the Easter-Party and if I’d managed to forget anything else about that. I told them that Ostara wouldn’t be able to resurrect Laura and that Mr. World and Technical Boy would be there, as well as Odin and Shadow, so I don’t think there _was_ anything I’d forgotten this time.

I said so and quietly settled back into my cocoon of warmth and tried to doze off, when nothing was said for a while.

* * *

I jerked awake.

“Move over.” A gruff voice said and zipped open the sleeping bag. After making out Sweeneys’ red hair, I sleepily shuffled around a little until I managed to press myself snugly into the side of the truck.

My plan of avoiding as much touch as possible with the angry leprechaun was thwarted almost immediately when said entity huffily pressed myself into his chest and tucked my head under his chin, before zipping us both up again.

I thought I heard a mumbled “I’m seriously investing in a camera next time we stop” from the front and then the exhaustion caught up with me again and I decided that well, whatever, at least he was warm and maybe that meant he wasn’t pissed at me anymore. At least not pissed enough to _not_ use me as a hot-water bottle.

* * *

Surprisingly, waking up bundled up like a burrito and tangled up with a 6 foot 5 inches tall giant of a man wasn’t as awkward as I would’ve suspected.

I refused to read anything into us sharing body-heat in a literal icebox and Sweeney didn’t make any weird comments, so everything was fine.

He either seemed to have forgotten why he was angry at me, or maybe he was just too tired to be cranky, but he was nice enough to even hold open the truck-door for me when it threatened to close again because of the slope we were parked on.

I violently pressed down the urge to snicker when he stumbled over a ridiculous pink rabbit statue and started to curse up a storm.

We wasted no time in entering the villa and I felt particularly out of place and underdressed with the nice get-ups and the pretty decorations everywhere. There were a lot of people – or gods? Mythical creatures? – all chatting, drinking something sparkly from flute-like glasses and snacking on hors d'oeuvres – so I wasn’t all that put out to lose sight of Laura and Sweeney in the first few minutes we entered.

I tried to be as inconspicuous as possible, staying near the walls and carefully taking a glass of sparkly something from one of the butlers gracefully navigating between the throng of people. I idly wandered about the various rooms, nipped once or twice at my drink, and made a game of trying to place the various Jesuses mingling around.

All the while I tried to keep an eye out for familiar faces or a bathroom- where Laura and Sweeney might just be right now, if they actually tried to keep to the script.

I found myself alone in a hallway, stopping short when an icy shiver went down my spine. I gripped my glass tighter and looked around. No one was there.

My gaze snagged on an intricately framed mirror to my right, the reflection showing slightly bloodshot eyes and limp hair that seriously needed a good wash. I looked a mess.

The second I started to avert my eyes; the reflection changed.

Rivulets of a black, tar-like mass streamed down, steam rising up of the form and my reflections’ eyes were wide and non-seeing, mouth opened in an anguished, silent scream, hands fisted in black-stained hair and one hand missing a finger, blood oozing out of the stump in thick drops.

I jerked back, heart jackhammering in my chest.

“My, that does look like one very fascinating death, dear.”, a light, lyrical voice intoned.

“Rather brutal I’d say, I haven’t seen someone killed via pitch since ages.”

Big brown eyes, framed by ridiculously long eyelashes, skin a light hazelnut and lithe body clothed in a mauve ancient-Greece like toga, a golden tiara glinting out of thick curls. The woman was positively gorgeous, I noticed.

“Was that you?”, I asked shakily, gaze fastened to brown hazel, afraid to look at the mirror again.

“No.” A mysterious smile curled the corners of her mouth. She glided over and very gently took hold of one of my hands.

“I am Calliope.”, the name sounded ancient and I was bewitched for a moment by the airy vowels leaving her mouth. 

“The mirror shows what may happen. It doesn’t necessarily mean that you die in that way, but it did look a lot like you were burned to death, drowned by pitch. Ghastly way to go, that.”

The black-haired woman splayed my fingers out over her own, wonder in her eyes.

“You’ve got an artists’ hands, dear.”, she breathed reverently, and I squinted.

“I don’t do arts.” Not anymore at least, it’s been a few years - the start of my time at the university, I guessed - when I had a brush in my hands or wrote a new chapter for my novel. I wasn’t very good at either discipline, but I relished in getting all these ideas and fantasies out of my head for a while.

I also knitted sometimes, but I also wouldn’t call that arts – it was just something to do with my hands when I felt restless.

Her answering smile was enigmatic.

“As a fellow artist, my sisters and I would like to offer you a way to avoid your tragic death, dear. We know someone that knows someone, so to speak.” She winked.

Then she reached into her toga and closed my hand around an off-white business card.

Before I knew it, I was standing alone in the hallway with the creepy mirror again. Because of a lack of pockets, I stuffed the card into my bra without looking at it more closely and then rushed to get back into human- or humanish – company. I breathed a quiet sigh of relief when the hum of conversation washed over me again. Curious, I tried to pick out Calliope between the moving bodies, but I couldn’t see hide nor hair of her.

Deciding to get some fresh air and clear my head after the cryptic mirror and woman in toga, I hastily padded over to the double glass doors, not deigning to look before opening them and taking a few steps outside.

I looked up.

The next seconds left a weird, bizarre mash-up of scenes, _scattered_ and _off-colour_ , in my mind.

Laura stood before Odin, fury in her frame, hand balled to a fist, about to get her revenge in a shower of bloody gore. Right behind her, a faceless _thing_ in a tuxedo, sword raised, about to behead my friend.

My _friend_. The word echoed for an eon in my head.

Then the glint of a knife – supposed to cleanly cut through luxurious cakes, parting them step by step by _step_ – in my hand.

Then, a knife in his back, my hand still gripping the hilt.

For a short second, I imagined black pitch dripping off the hilt, steam curling above.

I stumbled back and the thing turned.

Then, Laura, startled, looked behind her, saw what was about to happen and ripped off said things head in one swift move, before it could even try to turn me into filet-sized bites.

Then, there was _blood_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and bookmarking and also leaving kudos here :) 
> 
> Can anyone of you guess who Calliope is?


	3. House of the Dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's something not quite alive in here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I depicted the House on the Rocks correctly. I did watch a lot of Youtube videos - even an hour-long walk-through - and tried to keep to the map, but I have never been there myself. So if you notice any inaccuracies or something just seems off, please tell me :) I'll adjust it accordingly.

A sharp, disorienting pain shot through my stomach when a fist mercilessly descended. My knees buckled, but before I could even brace myself for the upcoming ground, hands harshly grabbed my wrists, pinned them behind my back and hoisted me up. I hung awkwardly, head down and heart going a mile a minute, a sharp whistling in my ears.

“Wait.”

My teary eyes snapped up and were met with electric blue.

“Who _are_ you _?”_ , Technical Boy stressed, eyes wide and wild. And then he laughed, incredulous.

“I don’t _know_ you!” Hands grabbed my face, tilting it this and that way, smearing blood up my temples, into my hair, when he tried to get a good look at my pale visage.

“ _Why_ don’t I know you?”

“Technical Boy, we don’t have time for this.”, a harsh voice cut through my half-thought answer in a sibilant hiss.

“No time?”, the blonde snapped, suddenly his nails dug into my cheeks.

“ _She_ shouldn’t exist!”

He turned dramatically to a formally clad man with a distinct special agent look, which I would have normally found perfectly funny, if I wasn’t in my current situation.

“ _Everyone-_ ”, Technical Boy hissed, derangement in his voice, “I know every-fucking-one on this planet, everyone who ever walked in front of a camera somewhere anywhere, _I know_ _everyone_. But she-“

He stopped, turned back.

“ _Your_ existence started two days ago. And before that- _you did not exist_. _How did you not exist?”_ He didn’t leave me any room to answer before he erratically turned again. The glance he spared me then was sinister.

“I don’t like inconsistency – about as bad as redundancy imho. I don’t know how you remained under my radar, but it really doesn’t matter. I’m just going to _delete you right the fuck now_.” He raised a hand, about to snap his fingers and white-hot panic churned in my gut.

“Hey!” A voice shouted. Hard, long-legged steps thundered.

“Get the fuck away from her, ya fucking cunt!”

For a short moment there was pandemonium. Technical Boy received a fist to his face curtesy of an angry redhead and Laura took it into her own hands to rid my captor of his arms, after only hesitating for a brief moment, her gaze lingering on Odin and Shadow.

“Stop!” A high, bell-like voice bellowed, and in the short pause following this outburst I found myself unceremoniously ushered behind a very irate leprechaun and undead woman.

I took my first bleary look at Ostara and was a little non-plussed. After seeing Calliope only a few minutes ago, I found her almost bland, with too much make-up, too much glitter and really – all around she was just trying too hard to look cute.

The goddess whirled to face Technical Boy, who was still crouched, hand covering a bleeding mouth.

“You are _not_ deleting a _guest_ ”, she stressed the last word in a ferocious hiss, “on _my_ day.”

Since when was I a guest?

Then, and only then did I notice the dark clouds rolling in threateningly.

“Dear Ostara,” a voice intoned, and I carefully ducked around Sweeneys’ bulk to get a look at the All-Father, who beseechingly raised his hands, palms up, to the goddess.

“Dear Ostara, your true, beautiful, ferocious nature is wasted in this place. You deserve a place of honour, you deserve _worship_. And unlike the waste that happened just now-”, dangerously bright eyes zeroed onto mine for a second, “I dedicate these sacrifices to _you_.”

And then lightning stroke with a violent _boom_ , scorching the earth black, faceless minions lying on the ground like puppets with their threads cut.

There was a distracting ringing in my ears, but I dimly registered Odin turning to a dark-skinned man in a neatly pressed dress-shirt, saying something, while the other man stared with wide, _believing_ – I remembered – eyes. 

“Ostara dear, show them your true nature.”

A transformation went through the blonde, eyes closing in bliss, hair mysteriously – dramatically – falling out of her neat up-do and then the air went dry, the clouds vanished and the plants, the earth _died_ all around us.

“You have your war now.” Mr. World hissed at Odin and suddenly, he was gone. I noticed Technical Boy staring at me, eyes narrowed, and I swallowed nervously. He sneered and then he was gone too.

I avoided looking at the carnage around us and shoved everything – every drop of terror, every tear threatening to fall from my eyes – down into a dark box, into the deepest part of my mind, telling me that I needed to _function_ right now, that there was no time at all for hyperventilating and consequently making an idiot out of myself.

“Ohh, Sweeney, you drunk bastard! And look, Shadow, your little wife’s also here. Looking a little rotten around the edges, aren’t you, dear?”, Odin waved jauntily and flounced over, seeming to pretend that said wife did not try to kill him a few minutes ago. Shadow followed behind him like a loyal puppy.

“And who,” he came to a halt right in front of Sweeney, who shifted to fully get me out of his line of sight. He patted the leprechaun patronisingly on the arm and stepped around him. “are you? A Christmas sprite perhaps?”

I took an involuntary step back. He certainly had a charming air around him, light and playful, but I couldn’t help the shiver that went down my spine when I thought about who and _what_ he was.

I absent-mindedly noticed Laura striding up to Shadow and greeting him with a soft “Hello, puppy.”, before I focused on the Old God in front of me.

Now, how to make a good first impression and simultaneously seem as unimportant as possible?

I self-consciously rubbed my blood-speckled – _I’m not thinking about that_ – hands on my polka-dot leggings and jerkily stuck a hand out, when the pause would’ve almost become awkward.

I very fiercely wanted to hide behind Mad Sweeney and Laura again.

“Hi.”, I tried to smile, cleared my throat when my tone came out reedy and thin and continued in a steadier voice, “I’m Marie.”

Odins’ charming air didn’t change one iota. Instead of shaking my hand like a normal person, he lightly kissed my blood-smeared knuckles.

“My pleasure, Marie dear. I am Mr. Wednesday.” He smiled with all his teeth, glass-eye and normal eye seeming to stare right into my brain, seeing everything, my thoughts, my wishes, my future. I shivered again, hand trembling slightly when he finally let go.

“Yeah, all right, now fucking everyone knows everyone, great. Let’s go.”, Sweeney interjected and manhandled me away from Odin, who looked on with a scheming smile cleaving his face.

Ostara barred our way, regally inclining her head to Odin and proclaiming that she would not fight in his war, since he couldn’t even be courteous enough to leave her rabbits alive. Then, her gaze focused on me.

“While I should make all three of you pay for treating my messengers as bad as the Old Fraud back there, I do owe the leprechaun.”, she looked disgruntled for a second, “And I do have a reputation to uphold. So, you and the dead woman will come with me right now – I won’t have you leaving like _this_.” 

She looked up sharply to Sweeney and said with a saccharine smile curling around her lips: “With this, the debt is _paid_.”

The redhead nodded with a grimace and Ostara ushered Laura away from her husband, who looked beyond uncomfortable to be speaking with his deceased wife again.

Sweeney made to follow, and Ostara threw him an annoyed frown.

“We’ll be just a few minutes, settle down boys, drink something, enjoy the party while it lasts. We’re having girls’ time now.” She made a shooing motion. I kind of felt bad for him, I’m sure he’d prefer to freshen up too.

While Laura did protest some and looked beyond pissed to have her heart-to-heart interrupted, the promise of getting rid of the drying layers of blood seemed to persuade even her.

We were led into a spacious bedroom and Ostara elegantly gestured for me to enter the adjourning bathroom first. I looked back at Laura for a moment, irrationally afraid to be left alone in a room – and to leave her alone with a goddess that could dry up the earth and leave it dead and rotten in a matter of seconds.

She wiggled her hands at me.

“Off you go, Cuddles. I’ll be fine. Can’t get any deader than dead, can I?” Well, she _could_ , but I didn’t try to convince her otherwise, and slipped into the bathroom.

I hopped into the shower, almost slipping and cracking my head open in the process.

While I stood under the spray – and God, did I need a shower after the last days – I sorted through all the negative emotions that tried to make themselves known and systematically pushed every single one down and locked them away.

I ended up feeling numb, hanging on by a thread.

My clothes were gone, I noticed after towelling off. Instead, a form-fitting, burgundy cocktail-dress with a golden trim around the collar, skin-coloured tights, shiny black ballet flats and thankfully not too outlandishly lacy underwear awaited me.

I would’ve certainly preferred pants, but beggars can’t be choosers.

I left the bathroom and Laura passed me by, bunched up clothes carefully held in her arms.

Ostara gracefully lounged on a colourful plush armchair and gestured for me to sit in front of a vanity mirror. I followed her hint and gingerly sat down, the bruise on my stomach a reminder of what happened only minutes before.

“I do wonder what your role is, in all of this.” She said when she stopped blow-drying my hair. It was a very surreal experience to have a goddess doll you up.

“I’m no one important.”, I insisted, and my hands nervously clenched in my lap.

She laughed and winked at me mysteriously. 

“I’m sure not everyone would agree with this opinion.”

I could really live without all these cryptic remarks.

She put up my wavy hair in a strict bun and proceeded to carefully pluck my eyebrows and apply a tiny layer of make-up and mascara. The blood-red lipstick though was extremely over the top and I felt increasingly uncomfortable. Mentally, my fingers started slipping on the string I was tethered to when I didn’t even _look_ like myself all that much anymore. I felt frayed at the seams. 

I was very relieved when Laura entered the room, clad in a pretty buttercup yellow summer dress and cute ballet flats with bows.

She got the same treatment, although her hair was left down, and she was dosed in a generous layer of parfum to try to divert attention from the very prominent rotten smell coming from her.

* * *

Odin, Shadow and Mad Sweeney were waiting down in the foyer when we joined up with them again.

“Took you long enough.”, the redhead grunted and pushed off the wall he’d leaned against. I noticed the significant distance between him and the All-Father and wondered worriedly if both this and Lauras’ reckless actions from before didn’t already give our game away.

“Now get out of my house and don’t come back. Any of you.” Ostara smiled sweetly and waved us off curtly.

“I do hope you will reconsider, dear. For old times’ sake.”

Odin threw the goddess a flirtatious wink.

The men seemed to have come to some sort of consensus, because we all went down to his car without further delay.

As soon as I could be sure that Ostara was out of sight, I ripped out the hairband holding my bun together and violently shuffled my hands through my hair. My shoulders relaxed a fraction.

I noticed Sweeney looking at me out of the corner of his eyes, lit cigarette between his lips. I blinked and raised a questioning brow.

He shrugged and averted his gaze. “Looks better that way.”, he commented.

“Oh, ah, thanks.”

When we reached the car, Odin and Shadow got in swiftly and Laura followed suit. I lingered at the back of it just a second more, very carefully patting it on its side.

“Hello, Sleipnir.”, I whispered under my breath, hoping I got the name right. And also hoping she’d safely get us to Wisconsin – already, so many things had changed to the original timeline, I wouldn’t be all that surprised if we got into a car crash somewhere along the road.

Sweeney threw me an impatient look and I hurried to slip onto the middle seat.

_Thunk._

“Fucking shit.”

I looked over, startled, and got wedged thigh to thigh between Laura and Sweeney, who irately rubbed his head. Oh, he must’ve hit it when he’d gotten in.

Laura snickered.

“Shut the fuck up, dead wife.”

An arm snuck behind me and shoved Sweeneys shoulder, who looked ready to pounce over me to get to her.

“Could you wait until I’m not sitting between you guys?”, I groaned.

“Children, children, behave!”, Odin jovially chided from the front, while he swerved out of the driveway.

I fumbled to get the seatbelt on, and Sweeney snorted.

“Sissy.”

“Yeah, well, I wanna see your face when you fly through a windshield.”

My cheeks felt hot.

Also, I was afraid that Betty – or Sleipnir or Gallows– would take offense that we were actively working against her master. Kind of like a horse bucking up to throw off an unwanted rider.

“It would probably look a lot better than now.”, Laura quipped.

“Oh, can you just fuck up, you goddamn cunt?” 

The responding shove to his shoulder was a lot harder than the last. I buried my head in my hands and sighed. 

“I told you not to call me a cunt, asshole!”

“Fucking bitch.”

I almost suspected the following silence to be just the calm before the storm, but no fists were thrown, so I leant back again. There was really no way to get even a little space for myself, so I just resigned myself to a very tight-spaced, uncomfortable ride, with a very warm, big arm to my right and a very bony, cold shoulder to my left.

Both Sweeney and Laura were looking out of the window and when I started staring out of the windshield, I awkwardly caught Odins’ eyes in the rear-view mirror.

“So, how long until we reach Wisconsin?” Awkward silences were never my strong suit. I wasn’t sure if awkward conversations were a better thing, though.

“Nine hours, give or take.”, was his response, a charming smile playing at the corners of his lips.

“You know where we’re going?” This was the first time Shadow talked to me at all and I felt slightly startled to be the centre of attention.

“Sweeney told me.”, I lied, hoping that would be it.

“And why, pray tell, would _Sweeney_ tell you where a meeting of gods happens? No offense dear, but you are the only one here that is not – part of the club, really.” The question was very obviously not directed at me and I felt the arm at my side tense.

“None of your business, Wednesday.”, was the terse answer to my right and I could almost see the gears turning in Odins’ head – and hopefully come to completely wrong conclusions.

“Ah, I see.”, Odins smile was uncomfortably lecherous for a moment, then he turned his attention back to me.

“I do wonder…”, he began, tone artfully arranged to sound inconspicuous,- “after you stabbed one of the Children-“, I forced the sudden bile down and felt myself hanging by a thread again, faint and numb,-“your hands were covered in black tar. Had a scuffle with a road builder before you decided to go all serial killer for the sake of a dead woman?” My answering smile felt wrong, distorted on my face.

“Wouldn’t say one stab-by incident would make me a serial killer.” I felt like I was wading through sludge, trying to arrange my features accordingly to my words. Then the tar-comment hit, and my eyes narrowed.

I thought I’d imagined that.

The violent scene of blood and gore threatened to drown me under again and I forced myself to keep very still.

“And I don’t know what you mean, I didn’t see anything black on my hands after.”

There had only been _red red red **red**_ \- My nails pressed into my thigh. I shoved the feeling down.

I felt eyes on me and when I followed the feeling I stared into the expressionless face of Sweeney. He probably thought I was pathetic. I resolutely shoved that feeling down too.

“Not all human, then, maybe?” Odins’ tone was still light.

“Wouldn’t know what, if.” I didn’t want to talk about this anymore.

“Oh, there’re lots of possibilities. Plenty of myths about black sludge of any kind to go around. There’s a river, called Amsvartnir, meaning the same as ‘pitch black’ or the bogey man is also often depicted as being ‘pitch black’ and sometimes even slimey – depending on the culture really – you stole any children lately?”

My face arranged into a wooden smile.

“Not any you could prove.”

Odin laughed good-naturedly.

I was ridiculously glad when he didn’t ask anything else as exhaustion dragged my shoulders down.

Dimly, I thought I’d kill to get a good night’s rest in my king-sized bed at home. From there the thoughts spiralled down sharply. As I felt the first threats of tears pushing up, I leaned back, face tilted up to stare at the hood of the car and closed my eyes tightly. Then I proceeded to violently rip these thoughts into shreds and systematically stomp them down into a rapidly blackening part of my mind. I’d deal with all this later. There was seriously no time to throw a pity party.

The rest of the ride was mostly silent, the predicted comments about mermaids happened and I felt weird – bad really – about Sweeney getting it on with the fish-people. I carelessly pushed whatever _that_ was down with all the other rubble. Maybe something to look at later, maybe _not_.

Laura tried to talk with Shadow a few times, but her attempts at conversation were shot down, leaving me with a distinct second-hand embarrassment. I could certainly understand why Shadow didn’t want to talk with her anymore and I already knew that Laura didn’t ever really love him, so she had no leg to stand on here, but I still felt vaguely resentful for the callous way she was treated.

Yeah, she was an asshole, but I liked her anyway. Maybe that had something to do with her being one of the only people I knew in this whole dimension – and her saving my life.

Whatever the case, Shadow didn’t endear himself to me in the slightest and after watching him kill Sweeney in the series, it somehow got a little more personal, now that I _knew_ the angry leprechaun a little better. I almost scoffed out loud. Saying I knew him was a little high-handed. I knew neither Sweeney nor Laura very well, we’d been traveling for what? Two days?

I spent the hours pretending to sleep to avoid any interactions and actively tried _not_ to brood. After a while I managed some sort of thoughtless doze that wasn’t restful but did allow me something of a breather.

* * *

This time, I didn’t end up with my head tucked underneath Sweeneys’ chin, to my relief. With Odin and Shadow there, that would’ve been pretty mortifying. Instead I’d stayed curled up over my knees, careful of my sore stomach. I regretted that when we finally came to a stop.

My back hurt like a bitch.

We parked in front of a rather boring iron gate, a magnolia tree in full bloom partly hanging over it. I knew what to expect from the TV Show, but I was still a little underwhelmed with the entrance to one of the most interesting and weirdest places I ever heard from.

As soon as I filed out of the car after Sweeney, I took the time to stretch, and an audible _pop_ cracked through the silence.

I cursed quietly in German.

Damn, both Laura and Sweeney really rubbed off on me with their potty mouths.

“Ouch”, Laura commented sympathetically and patted me on the shoulder.

“Yep.”, I agreed. A massage would be heavenly right about now.

While Shadow heeded over to the gate to show off his great lock-picking prowess, Sweeney and Laura settled down on the hood of the car and Odin got something out of the trunk. Feeling out of place, I padded over to take a closer look at the weird black cauldron positioned right before a gnarly tree at the intersection of the road.

I started circling it, leaves crunching underfoot. There was something-

Squinting, I stepped closer. There was something glinting right underneath the lid. Weird.

I got onto my tiptoes, stretching up as high as possible and barely dislodged the tip of a golden cord. Although I wasn’t that small for a woman with my 5 feet and 6 inches, it would still take a solid inch more to get that far up.

I hummed thoughtfully and stuck my head around the cauldron. I needed someone tall. Laura was speaking with Odin, Shadow still fiddling around with his lockpicks and Sweeney was leaning back on the car-hood, face turned in my direction. Perfect, no need to make a fool of myself by trying to get his attention.

I waved at him and motioned for him to come over, then, without waiting for any confirmation, I stepped back, put my hands on my hips, head tilted and resumed trying to figure out _what_ had caught my attention from another angle.

“So, what’s the story back here?”

I blinked for a moment, nonplussed.

“Ah.” That was slang, I realized.

I gestured at the cord. “Could you, maybe? I’m too short.”

Sweeney squinted, huffed, and quite easily managed to remove a tiny rolled up piece of parchment that was held together by golden thread.

“Midget.”, he commented and handed it over when I made grabby motions.

“I’m not short, you’re just absurdly tall for a leprechaun.”

“That’s racist, darling.”

I vaguely wiggled my hand at him and carefully unrolled the parchment, anticipation and curiosity filling my chest. 

> **_Co_ _m_ _e_ _and fi_ _nd_ _us!_ **

“Weird.”

I nodded. That just about summed it up. The script was small and tiny, a childish scrawl.

“Probably a prank from some wankers trying to scare little girls. C’mon.” 

“Rather, must be pretty tall wankers trying to scare pretty tall girls. Can you pocket that?” I gestured at my pocket-less state as a dress-wearer and handed the piece of paper over. 

He sighed.

“Alright.”

Sweeney ambled away.

I looked up at the cauldron again. I couldn’t really place it, but something was off with this whole situation, I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more to this message than a schoolboy-prank.

“Don’t grow roots back there.”

“On my way.”, I replied absent-mindedly.

“Mad Sweeney, fancy meeting you here!”

So, this was Anansi. I slowed down, uncertain. He looked like a fun-loving guy, but much too lively for me to be comfortable about. He seemed like of these people that talked circles around others and would craftily hide insults in his every compliment.

“Oh”, the god sniffed theatrically and waved a hand in front of his face. “It smells like dead meat dunked in a flower-pot here.”

What an arsehole.

Laura gave him a cheery smile and waved, but her eyes were hard. 

“That would be me.”, she commented cheekily.

“And who might you be, then?” Suddenly he stood right in front of me, grin stretched wide over his cheeks, eyes cunning.

Remembering the last time I tried to shake hands with a god, I just waved awkwardly. No need to encourage more of this old-school knuckle-kissing trend they had going.

“Marie. I’m just tagging along.”

He ooh’ed and if possible, his grin grew even wider.

“You’re a German gal, aintcha?”

“How’d you guess?”, I asked, curious.

“You got a tiny little accent there, doll. Probably learned to speak posh British in school, but you can’t get the German out of a German girl, can you?”

He loomed over me suddenly, much too close.

I narrowed my eyes. I really shouldn’t ask, but that did sound a lot like he’d wanted to tell me that I was a Nazi, just because I was born in Germany and if _that_ wasn’t racist…

“What do you mean?”, my voice was just a smidgen annoyed at being labelled as something so loathsome.

His answering smile was bright and charming, suddenly back to his happy-go-lucky mood. 

“Nothing at all, doll. Anyways, I’m Mr. Nancy, pleased to meet you. Now let’s get this show on the road.”

With that he swaggered over to Odin and they started chatting about the gods that did and didn’t heed the All-Fathers call.

“What was _that_?”, Laura asked quietly and linked our arms. I was startled at the close contact for a moment, then I hummed noncommittally.

“Not sure.” And really, I wasn’t sure if he’d insinuated what I thought or not.

We entered the strange building through an unlocked door and passed the entrance area. When I spied flyers, I gently detangled myself and grabbed one in the hopes of finding a map of the place. I was entirely aware that this was no holiday trip, and we certainly weren’t here for the fun of it, but I couldn’t help myself. Also, who could say if I wouldn’t need to go to the toilet at some point, and since I didn’t trust my sense of orientation one bit, it made sense to not be wandering around without a plan.

The smell of mould was overpowering in the air and I unconsciously made a disgusted face when it combined with Lauras’ rotten-parfum stench.

I ended up at the end of the group, sometimes looking down on the map to keep some orientation. We passed through the Mill House that housed a giant fireplace and several quite creepy dolls that seemed to follow our every step with their eyes, two in particular making the hair on my neck stand straight. I fell back even more when we entered the Streets of Yesterday. Red cobblestones and several antique knick-knacks were dramatically staged in the dim light and I took a short moment to curiously look inside when I noticed a pitch-black antique carriage.

“Your eyes get any bigger, they’re gonna fall out.”

I flinched and grinned sheepishly at Sweeney, who seemed to have waited up for me. I could also see Laura hovering at the entrance to the next room and hurried to get a move on.

“Sorry. “, I said to both of them, slightly embarrassed. “It’s just”, I gesticulated vaguely around us. “-really interesting.”, I ended lamely.

“Interesting’s good. The understatement of the century.” Laura laughed. “There’s some creepy shit around here.”

“I thought you’d get off on creepy shit like that, dead wife.”, Sweeney commented, and Laura boxed him on the shoulder and took off, middle fingers raised.

The Music of Yesterday greeted us with lightbulbs numbering close to the hundreds and a cacophony of noise seemingly coming from dozens of mechanical violins, cembalos, harps and trumpets.

I was absolutely fascinated.

After stopping at an exhibit for the nth time, Sweeney took to prodding me in the back as soon as I started to slow down. I didn’t even feel all that embarrassed about it, because I was much too invested in taking in every impression.

Suddenly, it was dead silent. An ice-cold wind seemed to sweep through the area. Surprised and disoriented, I came to a stop.

“ _Come and find us.”_ , a sweet, childishly high voice whispered in my ear. I froze in terror.

Sweeney seemed to heave a sigh and say something before ushering me forwards. I saw his lips move, but I _didn’t hear him_.

I felt a tiny hand pat my cheek.

“ _Come and play with us.”_ , another voice intoned.

 ** _“We’re so lonely.”_** , they chorused, heartbreakingly sad.

The sound filtered in in a violent rush and I must’ve made some kind of sound, because Sweeney threw me a concerned look.

“You alright there, jingle bells?”

“Did you-“

I broke off.

Behind the redhead were two wavering, transparent forms – kids. A girl in a frilly blue dress and a boy in old-fashioned slacks were holding hands and staring right at me.

The boy zipped his mouth shut, his pudgy face pale and deathly still.

The girl slowly – carefully – drew a finger over her neck and pointed at Sweeney.

I gulped, feeling the blood rapidly drain from my face.

Their intent was more than blatant. If I talked, they’d go after him.

I blinked rapidly for a moment and Sweeney turned to look at the place I’d stared at, confused.

I cleared my throat.

“Did you ever see something like this before? I mean, it’s really fantastic here, isn’t it? And oh, I’m fine, just a little excited. Everything’s alright.”, I babbled, stumbling over some words and tugged at his shirtsleeve to get a move on.

The kids were gone.

My breath shuddered. _What the fuck was that?_

I remembered the paper I’d found outside and shivered. The script did look untried, prepubescent – something a child could’ve written.

Did I just see _ghosts?_

I mean, I believed in almost anything at this point, but _ghosts_? And these were ghosts of little _kids._ Why did it have to be kids? Stories with dead kids were always the _scariest_ for me

My imagination immediately went wild – what if they died in this house? What if they killed people to get new playmates? But no one ever _stayed_ , everyone moving on and leaving both of them to remain all alone in this eerie place.

And what did I do now?

I might’ve been tunnelling for a bit, because next thing I noticed, we were standing in front of a humongous carousel, horse-seats arranged on the walls around and the roof above us, leering down.

“Ah, hello!”

My eyes focused on Salim and for a second I thought I’d do something completely cringy like faint or start to cry in front of everyone.

“The only normal one!”

“Hey!”, Sweeney and Laura exclaimed in unison.

I rushed over, awkwardly aborted the hug I really wanted to give him, when I realized we didn’t know each other _that_ long yet and instead grabbed one of his hands in both of mine.

“It’s so good to see you doing well! And you found your Jinn, too!”

I’d forgotten that – not to tell the others, I did tell them what happened here – but with the creepy ghosts and Technical Boy and all the other things that happened since we didn’t see each other, it wasn’t all that weird to not think about things like that.

Salim gently laid a hand on my own.

“It is also good to see you, my friends.”, he smiled at me, Sweeney and Laura.

God, he was so pure.

If that Jinn hurt him, I’d do something potentially dangerous and entirely embarrassing to him. I didn’t know what yet, but I probably had a super-strong undead woman and a giant gold-trick-doing magical leprechaun on my side – we’d cook up something appropriately evil.

While I managed to not make a complete moron out of myself and got Salim up-to-date on what happened in Ostaras Mansion – I did not tell him about Lauras and my involvement in taking out the Children, I shuddered to think about what he’d think about us after that – Odin, Shadow and Anansi went to talk to the Ifrit.

Barging right into our conversation, said Jinn proclaimed that neither of us would get a token to get a fortune. And yeah, that was more than okay for me.

No need to put dangerous gods on my ever-growing lists of immediate headaches. Speaking of…

I took a nervous look to the entrance we’d come from, expecting to see two luminescent wavering forms staring at me – instead of that a gorgeous woman with a voluminous head of black curls swanned in the room. 

I vaguely remembered that the Queen of Sheba’d originally been here before us, even when – and here I was sure that what little colour I had on my face was gone for good – she’d fed on one of the employees somewhere. Speaking of employees, it _was_ weird that they’d closed the whole place so soon and that we didn’t get any problems with security – did this building even have after-hour security personnel?

There were some weird subtle changes happening. Calliope, horror mirrors, the ghosts, now the Queen coming later than Odin and ‘his gang’ – which we were not. But maybe everything that happened here would’ve in some capacity been real too. Maybe there was a beautiful woman at Ostaras party that commented on mirrors that showed the future and maybe the ghosts in this place had always been here. They’d just been things that hadn’t been shown in the TV show.

“Nancy, hello.”, the woman greeted softly, jerking me out of my revere.

“Bilquis, dear!”

The following scene was the exact same as the series, probably down to the very dialogue. Fortunes were given from a charming antique machine in the form of tiny papers, after the Queen also gained a token and Shadow said his famous line:

“Every ending is a new beginning. Your lucky number is none. Your lucky colour is dead. Motto: Like father, like son.”

Like father, like son? I frowned.

I never took a moment to actually _think_ about what this little riddle could mean. I wasn’t all that curious, and not invested enough in the character to do some research on the books.

And who’d say the same knowledge from the books would apply to the TV Show?

But _who_ could be the father? His father had never been shown as far as I could remember. And how could a lucky number be dead? _whowhasd_

I wasn’t that bad at figuring out riddles, but this time I was stumped.

Odin, Shadow, Nancy and the Queen left.

“Hey, Jinn, I’d like to try this whole fortune thing, too.”

I looked up sharply, exchanging a surprised glance with Sweeney. Laura knew that her fortune would be blank. What sense would it make to get a blank paper?

Or maybe she still didn’t fully believe me?

Sweeney and Salim piped up to get the Ifrit to reconsider and he finally conceded. What I did not expect was Laura also insisting that I would get a fortune.

I thought about black pitch, tears, anguish and blood, a hacked off finger, and very much _did not want to know._

I held up both hands and laughed awkwardly, when the Jinn turned to – probably, he wore sunglasses so who knew – stare at me.

“I-“, would it make a hypocrite out of me if I didn’t want a hint of my future, after having basically laid Sweeneys’ and Lauras’ life story out before them?

I did ask them if they wanted to know beforehand, I justified myself vehemently in my mind.

“Come on, it’s going to be interesting, I’m sure.”, Laura cajoled.

I sighed, defeated.

“Alright. May I have a coin, too, Mr. Jinn?”

I think the defining factor for him to fold like a wet blanket were Salims’ puppy dog eyes begging him.

I looked back at Sweeney.

“You don’t want one?”

He seemed uncomfortable for a moment, rubbing his beard and gaze far off.

“Nah, you guys go have fun.”, he answered eventually.

I wondered what he’d thought about.

In front of me, Laura made a surprised noise.

“It’s got text.”, she said, and her filmy eyes were creased in happiness.

That had to be a good sign. I felt something in me relax.

“I’m glad.”, I whispered and smiled at her.

She hesitated for a moment.

“Do you want to see?”, her voice was very soft, unsure.

I was very curious, but-

“It’s yours. And who knows if these things won’t work like shooting stars. Once said out loud, it just might not come to pass. On that thought, if it’s something bad, please scream it from the top of this building.”

I couldn’t place her expression.

“It’s nothing bad.”, she said then and stepped back.

My hand trembled so hard that I needed more than one try to get the coin in.

The mannequin danced, a small click sounded, and a paper fell into the slot.

I didn’t want to take it. I took it anyways.

> _\- You did not fall. -  
> _

“Huh?”

“Something good?”, Sweeneys’ voice suddenly asked behind me and I reflexively crumbled the paper in a fist.

I hesitated.

“I… don’t know.”

“Not necessarily bad, then.”

Salim was such an optimist, I almost envied him.

I threw him a quick smile. “I guess.”

Sweeney looked like he wanted to say something else, but Laura beat him to it.

“And what’re we doing now? How long will this meeting last?”

“It will take a while.”, the Jinn offered unhelpfully.

While the centre of attention had wandered over to Laura, I took the time to look at the inconspicuous piece of paper again.

What could that mean? And also, why was it in past-tense? Didn’t this thing tell one the future?

I turned the paper absent-mindedly.

> **_PLAY WITH US_ _!_ **

“Ya look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

I very much wanted to laugh at Sweeneys comment, but it got stuck in my throat when I noticed a shimmering form waver at the edges of my vision.

I made a possibly stupid split-second decision.

“I need to go to the bathroom.”, I said, sounding ridiculously determined for declaring that I needed to go pee.

Then I waved, turned and hurried off as fast as my legs could carry me, only vaguely realizing that Laura had said something like wanting to go with me.

Well, that was rude of me.

My heart thundered in my chest.

Being rude might just be the last thing I’d need to worry about.

I knew what I was doing right now wasn’t very smart, I also knew I didn’t want to be a burden and I did _not_ under any circumstances want any of the beings or people inside the room harmed.

This wasn’t something Laura and Sweeney had a script for, me neither, but I wasn’t important in the long run. Those two would figure something out on their own if this whole thing went south.

Which it probably would, and fast.

I hesitated on one of the several platforms and walkways surrounding three gigantic organ consoles. I hadn’t seen any of the two ghosts for a short while.

Was I supposed to just keep on moving?

Carefully, I made my way to the next entrance while simultaneously keeping a look out for any ghost-kids. My skin had long since erupted into goose bumps, hairs on end. I could very faintly hear eerie music from some other room, but in here it felt like I’d hear a pin drop. 

I felt tiny underneath the humongous chandeliers.

“Over here!” a sweet voice chirped, and I whipped around. The girl stood at the entrance to the next room, mouth stretched into a big grin.

Okay, just think about them like they were totally normal kids. How did one talk to kids?

Be friendly, I guessed.

“Hello.”, I greeted politely, my tone wavering only the slightest bit.

“Hello! Come on over here”, she replied, still smiling.

“Why?”

Okay, not a good idea to ask that. She’d stopped smiling.

“Because I said so.” Her voice had dropped to a coarse hiss.

“Okay, okay, I’m- I’m coming over.”, I tried to placate, my hands shaking when I held them up in the universal ‘don’t shoot me’-gesture.

While I changed walkways, I dared to look behind, couldn’t see the way back anymore among the winding paths and gulped. I tried to steel myself, nearing the little ghost with quiet, firm steps, my shoes sinking into red carpet uncomfortably.

“Where’s your brother?”

“Here.” I lurched to the side and hit the rail, hard. Groaning, I held my stomach. That would become a bruise on my bruise later. 

The little boy that had spoken had suddenly appeared at my right and consequently scared the shit out of me.

When I calmed down as much as possible considering the situation, I also tried to smile at him. These were kids, even if they were dead, they might not kill me if I was kind to them, maybe.

“Hi. How’re you doing?”

His face was blank and unresponsive.

“I am fine. Come. We want to play with you.”

“Don’t you have each other to play with?”

“That’s boring.”, the girl said, now back to her grinning self, but obviously thinking I was asking very stupid questions.

Remembering the last time I’d asked ‘why’, I wisely did not tempt fate.

The boy and I were walking up the stairs and I shuddered violently when an ice-cold, tiny hand slid into my own. I tried not to react.

“What do you want to play, then? But remember, I need to be back in an hour.” An hour should be enough to appease them I hoped.

“An hour?” The hand around mine suddenly clamped down and I felt my fingers cracking.

These were kids, I reminded myself. Maybe being stern would get me out of here.

“Yes, an hour-“

“What the fucking shit are you doing up there?”

I exhaled shakily, suddenly even more afraid, but not for my own sake.

I turned slowly to look at him, noticing that the icy presence at my side had vanished.

“Listen-“

“No, you’re fucking listening. I know it’s hard, okay – I know it’s hard to lose everything, but whatever you’re doing, whatever’s happening up there-“, he pointed at his head, “is _not_ _dealing_ with it.”

The chandelier over his head started swaying.

“ _Wait_! Don’t do this!”, I screamed, voice absolutely panicked, gaze pinned to the emotionless orbs of a prepubescent child hovering at the contraption that held the tons-weighting light in place.

An arctic wind announced the presence of the other child at my side again. She was staring right at Sweeney, face menacing.

“You’re ruining our fun!”, she hissed, high-pitched and Sweeneys’ expression turned surprised. His eyes narrowed.

He hadn’t seen them before, I realized.

He looked up, saw the swaying chandelier and must’ve come to the same conclusion that I have – he wouldn’t be able to outrun it if it fell.

“So, ya found a few new friends?”, the leprechauns voice was deadly calm.

“Yes, and she’s going to stay with us forever!”, the girl answered for me petulantly.

Alright, next try.

I lowered myself, squatting at the side of the girl.

“Dear,”, I started softly, “I can stay for an hour with you and then I need to go back to my other friends, alright?”

Her see-through, translucent form shivered in rage; tiny fists pressed into her sides.

“You can’t go! We’re not letting you!”, she screamed in my face and I winced. Then she got eerily quiet and her gaze shifted to Sweeney, a devious glint in her eyes.

“If you don’t have any friends anymore, you won’t need to go back to them.”, she stated then and I froze, horrified.

I stumbled to my feet; hands stretched out like I could pluck the creaking chandelier out of the air myself.

“Don’t-“, I gasped, felt tears slide down my cheeks, black pitch dripping on the red carpet and starting tiny fires on the material that went out in milliseconds. A high-pitched ringing started in my ears.

I whipped around to look at the one that wanted to kill one of the only-

“Don’t kill him.”, my voice sounded raw in my own ears and I felt myself slipping again. I grabbed on for dear life. I couldn’t mess this up. _Not this._

An epiphany hit me suddenly. This would either work, or-

“I have- I have two friends in this whole world. If one of you two would stop being here, the other would try to get back to them in any way possible, wouldn’t you?”

I dragged my gaze away from the girl, trying to get this _right_ for a change, and focused on brown eyes. His eyebrows were furrowed, lips downturned and he looked ready to- to do something. I couldn’t completely figure out what his expression meant.

“I wouldn’t leave Brother alone in here.”, the child conceded quietly.

“And _I_ wouldn’t leave one of them to stay all alone. But,”, my breath shuddered in my throat, “But, if you leave both of them alive, they’ll have each other to keep safe and I won’t try to get back to them.”

“Jingles, don’t you fucking _dare_ play the martyr- “, Sweeneys terse voice cut in, but I talked over him, loudly.

“So, what do you two want to play? Forever’s a long time and we will need to get creative even in here.”

A sharp, abrupt pain bloomed in my cheek. I shakily raised a hand. My fingers came back down bloody.

The girl hovered in front of me, hand still outstretched in a throwing motion.

“We’re playing Chase. And we’re going first.”

I looked past her for the tiniest moment, vision blurry from tears. Then I gritted my teeth, squared my shoulders. I wanted to be brave.

“Don’t you dare fucking die! Any of you!”, I roared and spun on my heels, avoiding the next antique knife by a hairsbreadth.

“You neither!”, Sweeney bellowed behind me, voice distorted.

I sprinted into the next room and the door fell shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any ideas what's up with the ghost-kids?  
> And what do you think is Lauras fortune?


End file.
